Fleeting Moments in 100 Themes
by Silent Serenade
Summary: An exploration of various moments between Usagi and Mamoru during the first season, based on 100 different themes – moments barely captured, but lingering with sentiments.
1. 19 – Liar

These themes are from and written for the LiveJournal community **Usagi and Mamoru: A Love Like No Other**, and the link can be found on my bio page - come join us, and together we shall spread the Sailor Moon propaganda to the ends of the universe.

#19 - Liar  
474 words

"You're driving me insane," Usagi muttered under her breath, concentrating on sipping her milkshake, trying to keep her thoughts away from the man who sat so dangerously close.

She had walked into the arcade with the resolution that she had gotten over him, but her mental discipline and the internal mantras of _'he will not affect me'_ dissolved like the melting of fairy floss when his gaze caught hers, and she once again felt the familiar exposure and awkwardness. Dismissing the feeling, she ordered her usual afternoon treat and used it as a focal object, silently pouring her thoughts to the understanding glass of chocolate goodness. Well, almost silently.

"Are you talking to me?" She jumped slightly at his unexpected question, which was carried out in a soft murmur that sent her heart racing. She tried to swallow subtly, and clung onto the possibility that perhaps, he had not heard her careless slip after all.

"Excuse me?" She feigned indifference, keeping the tremors from her voice as she stared at him boldly.

"'You're driving me insane'," Mamoru quoted, leaving Usagi to regret her lack of control when it came to voicing her thoughts. "Was that for me?"

She looked away from him, feeling a sudden heat rushing to her face. Her stomach seemed to have disappeared, and her heart was pounding so irregularly in her ears that she was overcome with dizziness. Knowing that any further delay would make her response suspicious, she braved the terrible consequences bound to take place, and tried to resume a neutral tone.

"Um, no... Why would you assume that?" She was rather proud at her attempt to sound both confused and nonchalant – if only it would convince him.

"Just wondering," Mamoru replied with a shrug. She felt all the hope which had subconsciously built from his question fade, and berated herself for the disappointment she wasn't supposed to feel.

"Okay, if you say so." She finished the last of her milkshake, somewhat relieved that he had dropped the subject and returned to his reading. To her annoyance, she felt the uncomfortable nagging of guilt growing within her, along with that tiny spark which wasn't satisfied with his answer as to why he thought she had a crush on him.

'_Denial...'_ She cringed, and realised that despite his arrogance and insults, he still deserved the basic amount of courtesy from her. Hastily, she found a pen from her bag and grabbed the nearest writing surface, scribbling frantically with a flushed face.

"Hope you'll have a nice day then," she smiled with forced cheerfulness, flinging the folded 'note' onto his book before dashing out the arcade.

Surprised and curious at Usagi's strange behaviour, Mamoru reached for the white cloth, finding himself anticipating whatever message she had left him.

He unfolded the napkin, and stared at the bubbly scrawl.

'_I lied.'_


	2. 40 – Pointillism

#40 - Pointillism  
442 words

"What are you doing?" Usagi chirped over a green-clad shoulder, initiating their daily battle after Mamoru made no acknowledgement of her presence, despite the full ten minutes which had passed since she first meandered into the arcade.

"I'm busy," he grumbled, concentrating on the notebook before him. "Go away."

"Only when you've answered me," was her response in a cheerful, singsong voice. After a thoughtful pause, she added, "And even then, I might not leave."

To emphasise her words, she more or less bounced onto the seat next to his, scrutinising his neat handwriting.

"Woah, is this 'look-at-my-excessively-redundant-vocabulary' day or what?" she half-teased, scrunching up her face when she encountered a particularly impossible word. "Is that even English?"

"I'm trying out Pointillism," he replied, the annoyance clearly evident in his voice.

"Your point being?"

"That's just so funny," he drawled as she giggled. "I'm very impressed, Odango. Five points and a gold star for you."

"So what does it all mean?" she questioned, still trying to make sense of his writing. Struggling to pronounce most of the polysyllabic words, she opted for the more enunciation-friendly ones, which nonetheless proved to be more challenging than anticipated. "Ultracentrifuge... adscititious... Irrevocability... Movendi... ytterbium... Are you sure you don't have a dictionary with you?"

"Always the highly educated and cultured one you are," Mamoru muttered sarcastically, evoking a stuck-out-tongue from Usagi, which he ignored. "Pointillism refers to a movement in art, where a painter would create an entire work using only dots – 'points' in a large variety of colours – to represent a bigger picture, and still effectively keep some of the finer details. Similarly in music, a composer uses the different tone colours and registers of instruments to establish a general mood or feeling, rather than relying on the melodic and harmonic material evident in the more pitch-driven pieces. I'm experimenting with these ideas, and trying to incorporate the concepts of 'Pointillism' into a written medium."

He couldn't help but smile as she 'oh!'-ed at his explanation, aware of the strange sense of pride he felt when she showed her understanding of the slightly difficult notions.

"So you like me?" The smile vanished, and he stared at her in disbelief.

"What are you talking about?" he demanded, feeling a need to wipe his suddenly clammy hands, one of which had tightened around his ballpoint pen. "Where on earth did you get that idea?"

"There," she pointed at the lined pages, speaking in a very matter-of-fact tone. "The first letters of each word spell out something. 'Usako. I like. Marry.' Personally, I think that's a rather strange approach to post-modernism."

He had no sharp reply to that.


	3. 49 – A familiar song

Thanks for all of your support and kind words, I really appreciate them! This one's a little long, but I hope you'll still enjoy it.

#49 - A familiar song  
765 words

Usagi hummed as she spooned around her sundae, trying to ensure that a fine balance between chocolate topping and ice-cream existed in every mouthful. Her humming decrescendoed as she reluctantly reached the dreaded note in the melody, beyond which she could never seem to recall, and proceeded to start all over again, just like she did 60 times earlier in the day.

"This is so annoying," she growled, poking viciously at her ice-cream. Why couldn't she recall the tune?

"What has your sundae ever done to deserve such treatment?" came the voice which scrambled up her musical senses, if she even had any. "It, and all its predecessors, have only served you well."

She decided to ignore his comments as per usual, when an ingenious idea came to her and she sat up, excited.

"Hey! You're smart!" Her dancing eyes caught Mamoru in surprise, and it took him longer to recover than he did during their previous encounters.

"I'm glad you finally realised that," he smirked at her, the usual superiority evident in his tone.

"Oi, don't be too pleased with yourself yet," Usagi pouted. "Let's see if you can solve a slight problem for me."

"Oh? And what may that be?" He was interested to see what kinds of philosophical questions Usagi would throw his way, and he rubbed his hands together elatedly, eager to take the challenge.

"See, I have this song stuck in my head," she lowered her voice, starting to fidget and play with her sundae. "I was wondering if you could name it for me."

His enthusiasm plummeted at her request, and he fixed his darting eyes on Usagi's melting treat. "I'm sorry, but I'm not exactly well-versed in popular culture."

Usagi blinked at Mamoru's tinted face, somewhat confused by his reaction. "Um, I think it's a classical song or something."

He perked up, and grinned. "Piece."

"Huh?"

"If it doesn't have lyrics, it shouldn't be referred to as a 'song', but a 'piece'." Standing on home turf again, he felt his confidence return along with his curiosity. "So, would you like to sing it to me? I might be able to recognise it."

Her hesitation returned, and she took a shaky breath, humming so softly that Mamoru could not distinguish a single note.

"I'm sorry, but could you please try again?" he interrupted, feeling slightly guilty at how uncomfortable she seemed. Moving closer to her so that their cheeks almost touched, he whispered encouragingly, "Just a smidgen louder, so I can hear you properly. Try singing to 'la' – it might help."

She swallowed – a sound he could hear distinctly – and tried again.

This time he was prepared. He heard every quiet note she sung, felt every breath caressing his cheek, loved every tremor in her voice, leaving him to imagine how the sweet tones would sound if they were sung with confidence.

She stopped in the middle of a phrase, and peered at him shyly from under her eyelashes. Relaxing slightly when she saw his reassuring smile, she waited for his answer.

"It's the first movement from Beethoven's _'Moonlight' Sonata_." He drew back from her a little, aware of the sudden ache which accompanied the loss of their proximity.

"So it's about the moon?" Her innocent question somehow filled the void that was created instants before, and Mamoru allowed another smile to shine upon his features.

"Actually, it's not," he replied, causing her to furrow her eyebrows. "Beethoven titled it _'Sonata Quasi Una Fantasia'_, roughly meaning 'a sonata somewhat like a fantasia', but the poet Rellstab later nicknamed it 'Moonlight' for the surreal and peaceful quality of the first movement which resembled moonlight shining on Lake Lucerne, and it's been known as such ever since."

"Wow, you _do_ know your stuff!" She was amazed at the intellectual side of Mamoru, which she knew existed but had never experienced firsthand herself. Suddenly feeling inferior against his cultured background and unsure whether her uninformed comments held any worth, she dropped her voice, stumbling over her words. "I think it's a rather sad tune... Pretty, but sad... Then again, I haven't really heard the entire song – I mean, piece – before..."

"Would you like to?" He regarded her astonished reaction uneasily, unsure of what to expect. "I can play the piece for you, if you would like to hear it."

For a moment, he thought she would decline in the politest way possible when one was offered to listen to Classical Music, but her eyes lit up and she smiled in a demure sort of way, sending his heart racing.

"I'd like that."


	4. 15 – Mistake

Thanks for all of your lovely comments - they really brighten up these dark I-should-be-studying-but-I'm-not-really days. This one's a pseudo-follow up of the previous drabble, and written for Libby.

#15 - Mistake  
389 words

She watched, mesmerised, as his fingers floated upon the black and white keys, easily producing smooth and even notes of a flowing melody and its accompaniment.

He gradually crescendoed, pouring himself earnestly into his performance, and Usagi felt her heartbeat increasing in time with the music, entranced by how his eyes were closed in bliss, how his alluring lips parted slightly.

A slip of fingering – perhaps it was because Mamoru had stopped paying adequate attention while under Usagi's scrutiny, perhaps it was simply a matter of miscalculated timing – and she noticed it immediately.

"Hey, you made a mistake!" Usagi's accusation stopped Mamoru's playing, though his fingers rested gently on the keys. "Ahahaha! I caught the almighty Chiba Mamoru-sama making a mistake!"

He remained silent and calmly waited for her excitement to fade, internally trying to recover from the ego bruising. When she had become relatively still, he spoke.

"Music is not about playing the notes correctly, Usa." His soft words and intimate tone caused her cheeks to tint, and she tried to keep her breathing even. "It's about ones personal connection with their pieces, it's about revelling in the beauties we find in no other sphere, it's about taking from the music ones own meaning, and then using it to provide the essence of ones performance."

"What do you make of it?" Usagi asked, her curiosity overriding her hesitancy. "What have you taken from this piece?"

He closed his eyes, unsure of whether to answer. His fingers started moving again, once again filling the room with its gentle melody, this time accompanying his murmured response.

"I see the shadows of a painting." His voice was barely a whisper, his eyelids still softly shut. "A serene, blissful image, which reminds me of lazy summer nights under the silvered sky. I think of innocence, beauty and courage, the three blazing stars which form the glittering triad of qualities I admire, respect, and love. I think of fulfilled promises and promising futures, the emblazoning trails which form the continuous cycle of the life I seek, with the person I've found."

The music came to its quiet finish. His hands momentarily lingered on the smooth ivory, and when he withdrew them, his eyes opened slowly. Placing now trembling hands on his lap, he gazed into those sparkling cerulean eyes.

"I think of you."


	5. 59 – Unrequited Love

For him.

#59 - Unrequited Love  
263 words

She stared at him, seeing him take the first sips of his daily coffee.

She admired the way he effortlessly brought the cup to his lips, despite the undivided attention he paid to his reading. She admired the way his spare arm rested gently on the counter, sleek fingers unfurled in a relaxed manner. She admired the way his jacket clung loosely to his elegant posture, both revealing and hiding the figure she wanted to discover more of. She admired the way his velvety hair framed his face, the way the midnight curls came to life with a slight toss of his head when the locks of achingly beautiful black silk fell into his eyes.

She could imagine the way those sapphire eyes would narrow and darken to a depthless hue, if she reached out a hand and gingerly brushed those silky strands. She could imagine the way his jacket would cling onto his every tentatively drawn breath, if she reached out a hand and gingerly fingered his well-toned chest. She could imagine the way his arms would tense momentarily before his fingers hesitantly laced around hers, if she reached out a hand and gingerly held his own delicate ones. She could imagine the way his lips would part slightly in surprise, unsure whether to curl them into a soft smile, or to move them timidly toward hers, if she reached out a hand and gingerly caressed his smooth cheek, shyly telling him that she...

She blinked, seeing him take the last swallow of his daily coffee, his intense eyes staring at hers.


	6. 90 – If the shoe fits

Contains material from the film _Clueless_.

#90 - If the shoe fits  
328 words

Mamoru was not eavesdropping. He was simply objectively monitoring the current societal trends when it came to a specific topic which could subsequently be utilised for statistical purposes if he ever decided to change his college degree. The acute attention being paid was for educational purposes only.

"So Usagi-chan, when are you going to lose your virginity?" Rei asked, after a lengthy explanation about her personal choices. Mamoru immediately classified the topic as critical for his analysis, and his aural detectors zoned in.

"I'm going to wait for the right guy, no matter what," she replied softly, Mamoru's internal Odango-radar picking up every hesitant murmur. The girls waited. Mamoru waited.

No supplementary statement followed.

"So that's it?" Makoto broke the silence, slightly bewildered. She understood and respected her friend's integrity, but still... "What if the 'right guy' never comes? Are you going to abstain for life?"

"And what if a brutally hot guy you had lukewarm feelings for wanted you badly?" Minako chipped in, "would you still wag a finger at him?"

Apart from one rather average-looking-black-haired-blue-eyed-green-jacket-wearing college student he knew, Mamoru would not approve of any other males who may fit Minako's description. Conclusion based purely on his academic insight, of course.

"Guys!" Usagi's shrill cry reactive those sensitive sensors, causing Mamoru to subconsciously sit straighter, "I just want to wait for the right guy! I mean, you know how picky I am about my shoes, and they only go on my feet!"

Mamoru was not eavesdropping. Any other random passer-by would clearly understand the context of Usagi's creative analogy, and surely, at least one of them would have commented. And considering he was the only one save the girls in the arcade at the moment, it was his job to justifiably acknowledge a valid point made for a potential (i.e. currently non-existent) thesis on purely professional grounds (i.e. not by a potential love interest) with a comment of his own.

"What if the shoe fits perfectly?"


	7. 2 – Mask

Here's another drabble for you guys. I hope you'll enjoy!

#2 – Mask  
245 words

"Oh, why don't you just shut up and go crawl into that stinky cave where all the other social rejects congregate?" the blonde said viciously, stunning Mamoru into silence. "Oh wait. Now I've just demeaned the more unfortunate members of our society..." Usagi bit her lip, clearly upset by her own words.

"That wasn't very nice," Mamoru replied in his usual bored voice, taking extreme care to hide his anxiety. Truth be told, he had no idea why Usagi was suddenly so reactive – after all, he had only flung the usual insults at her that afternoon, which was nothing out of the ordinary. When he realised that the blonde didn't reply, he teasingly added, "Odango Atama."

Anger marked her face again, before she calmed down and smiled at him in a menacingly sweet sort of way. "And we all know you're so deserving of niceness, being the helpful and kind person you are."

Mamoru flinched, not expecting what she had said. "Is the little bunny hiding behind her subtle sarcasm?" he attempted to drawl, no longer as controlled/cool/suave/highly-desirable-in-an-aloof-way as he had hoped to remain.

"No." The girl raised her chin, and looked Mamoru in the eye. For a moment he thought he caught a glimpse of something – an indefinable shift in her gaze which sent a chill up his spine, as if cool fingers had softly brushed against his bare skin – before she turned away, breathing out her next words.

"I'm hiding behind a mask."


	8. 18 – Death

Many thanks to Alan, who spent two hours agonising over this little drabble with me. I hope you'll enjoy!

#18 – Death  
184 words

A burning tear slipped down her smooth, cold cheek. What little warmth inside her was slowly leaving, like the gradual fading of a blue sky as the dying sun leaves it to the unforgiving cruelties of darkness.

As each ragged breath left her, she felt a familiar presence softly brushing her consciousness, wrapping delicate tendrils around her body, surrounding her with something akin to warmth. A sudden longing filled her, and as she slipped into the dark night, the first of the emerging moonlight evoked in her memories of precious, stolen moments. Pleasures tinged with a numbing ache that washed away the physical pain she had struggled against.

And there was the regret. The incessant, endless regret, stretching from east to west like a sea of lifeless sand, echoing with the silent screams of a phrase that had shaped her entire being. Desperately, she searched for a way to release those inner cries, to somehow convey her thoughts, her emotions, her all, to him

A burning tear fell on her porcelain cheek, slipping down to the frozen lips whose secrets were lost forever.

_Aishiteru.

* * *

_  
Aishiteru translates to "I love you".

Moral of drabble: If you like someone, tell them before it's too late! And I would love to know what you guys think about this particular piece of work. Thanks for reading!


	9. 99 – Geek

I wrote this one a long time ago, but always avoided posting it here because I knew it would do hideous things to the formatting. The first and last words of this piece are supposed to be in HTML tags, not parentheses. Enjoy!

#99 – Geek  
222 words

(geek)

Usagi tilted her chin, looking quizzically at the only white letters imprinted on the front of the otherwise black shirt Mamoru was wearing. Was it just her, or had his fashion sense decreased dramatically since yesterday afternoon? Even the green jacket was better by far... or perhaps not.

"Nice shirt, baka," she greeted with a touch of sarcasm, slightly annoyed when his attention remained fixed on the latest issue of _New Scientist_. And to think she had bothered to take a detour via the arcade in hopes of finding an entertaining conversation partner...

Usagi was about to make a not-so-nice comment so their customary arguments could kick into action, when he flipped a page, mumbling, "Thanks, Odango."

"You're welcome," she responded automatically. When he made no further indication of continuing the (rather non-existent) conversation, Usagi let out a tiny sigh and stood, ready to head home to her newly acquired _Fruits Basket_ manga.

As she was about to leave, Mamoru's eyes brushed over her, his gaze appreciative. "You're rather 1 over Cos C yourself." His lips curled slightly, and he went back to reading the article 'Quantum foam blows away naked singularity'.

Completely confuzzled, Usagi headed out the arcade, glancing behind her one last time to see the only white letters imprinted on the back of his otherwise black shirt.

(/geek)

* * *

"1 over Cos" equates to "Sec" in trigonometry. 


End file.
